


The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth

by boblemon



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boblemon/pseuds/boblemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how much Jun tries to, he just can’t resist his new rival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth

**Author's Note:**

> deelovesryo's prize for my contest! Betaed by r_tenou and you can find the original post [at my livejournal](http://saigo-no-lady.livejournal.com/33268.html). Title taken from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

"That’s a wrap up! Thank you for your hard work today, Matsumoto-san.”

Jun nods at the photographer and acknowledges the other crew members before gracefully walking off set, the very image of everything the famous fashion model is supposed to be. Today had been perfect, just like his sessions generally are, which is a relief. This was the job he had been looking forward to for months now: his first full cover shoot for his favorite magazine, and a centerfold at that.

Of course something like excitement wasn’t enough to put the professional off of his game. But he will admit that he is pleased his day is finally over. Now all there was to do is continue on as usual and wait for his own copy of the serial, which always arrives promptly in his mailbox the day before it’s released publicly.

“You got some good shots in there, J,” Nino greets as Jun approaches him, even though he doesn’t look up from his game console. Jun wonders how he would know, since he was sitting in the same spot that Jun had left him when the session had started.

“Glad you’re somehow managing to do your job,” the model replies curtly, then sighs and pulls a towel out of his bag to start cleaning off his face.

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” Nino smirks back. They have known each other for long enough that Jun can hear the sincerity in his voice, and it is true. He’s trying to act like the cool Jun he is supposed to be, but apparently it isn’t enough to fool his manager.

“Fine. You got me,” he shrugs, smiling casually. “Can we finish up?”

“Sure. I’ll even let you treat me to drinks tonight to celebrate.” Nino finally turns off his videogame and begins to dig through his work bag for some papers, shooing Jun off to the changing room.

+++

Jun has gone as far to write the magazine’s arrival in his schedule book.

After another long day of work, he arrives back at his private apartment, finds the package along with his other mail, and suppresses a smile as he makes his way to the elevator. Once he gets into his flat, he places the pile on his dining table, wanting to savor the moment a little longer.

He takes a long shower and then opens a can of beer before he carries the stack of mail with him to the couch, turning on the TV in the background with the sound down. Leaving the magazine for last, he looks through a bill notice and useless letter from the modeling agency first, and is almost finished with his beer and ready for a second one when he finally allows himself to open it.

At first he is confused.

It isn’t him on the cover.

Although, it’s the correct title and serial number, and his name is even there, down in the corner.

With a serious silence he carefully opens the magazine and looks at the index, eventually turning to the pages indicated as his. As expected they are the same photos he had taken a month earlier, a chic motif with a top hat, his hair curly underneath.

They are in the wrong spot.

Just to make sure, he flips through the rest of the magazine and stops dead on the cover shoot and the centerfold that should be his.

Aiba Masaki.

+++

After fifteen minutes, Jun manages to get over his initial anger.

He hasn’t disposed of the magazine because he is a professional, and he hasn’t called Nino in his rage either, because he knows that his manager will find out soon enough and take whatever steps he needs to in order to get an explanation. He is able to ride it out by pacing his apartment, criticizing himself and his work and wondering what had went wrong, but there is one way to find out what made him only second best.

He sits back down, opens another beer, and retrieves the magazine.

Aiba’s photo shoot is much different from his. It has a cheery background with natural light, and the man is holding a rugby ball in the first shot, wearing summer clothes that look too simple for how high of a price is indicated in the summary. Initially he tries to analyze why something like this had bumped him from his promised spot, but he soon finds his eyes wandering over the photo, taking in Aiba’s smooth hands and the way that the collar of his shirt hangs perfectly on his collarbone.

It isn’t until five minutes later that he realizes he is staring and mentally slaps himself.

+++

The same thing happens with each photo after that. Jun finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from Aiba’s blinding smile and eye wrinkles. They aren’t even traits that a model should be proud of having, but somehow they suit the man and make him look undeniably endearing.

Jun hates it.

Or more accurately, hates himself for getting caught by him too.

The centerfold is just as simple as the rest of it, Aiba lying on a bed of grass and looking up at the sky happily, but Jun knows why it was chosen. The pose is perfect. Aiba’s lips are parted just so to give off an air of spontaneity and the casual arc of his chest is both sexual and familiar at the same time.

He still hates it, he tells himself, as he closes the magazine and places it in the stack on his side table.

+++

Later, Jun practices a smile similar to Aiba’s in the bathroom mirror. Until he realizes that imitating the sun doesn’t look nearly as good on him.

+++

Ironically he has a photo shoot with Aiba only a week later. His schedule only indicates a “compilation,” which is by no means uncommon, but as soon as he catches sight of the other man hurrying towards him on the way to the shoot, he knows that it’s him. There is no other option.

“Incredible! Matsumoto Jun! In the flesh!”

His voice is lower than Jun expects. But the high pitched giggled that follows his statement is not and seems to fit Aiba’s contagious smile. Somehow Jun resists smiling back, and reminds himself to scowl instead.

+++

It’s strange. Most models have a personality they project in their work. For example, Jun is cool, mysterious, and dashing, usually dressed in suits or things worth the same as a down payment on a car. Even if in real life he is conservative, a perfectionist, and quite the literary geek.

Aiba, on the other hand, is exactly how his photos portray him: honest, light-hearted, and a little stupid.

“I’ve always admired you, Matsujun! When I first saw you in _Fashioned_ after you debuted I knew you were going to make it really far! Did you really start out just by—“

“Excuse me,” Jun cuts him off, finding it easier to become annoyed now that he has a valid reason to draw from. “My name is Matsumoto Jun, not Matsujun or any variation thereof.”

The light in his partner’s eyes dims just slightly, but Jun finds it simple enough to blame on the lamp tests on the set near where they are waiting.

“I’m sorry Matsumoto-san, I didn’t mean to be forward or anything, it’s just that I’ve been waiting so long to meet you! I really thought we would—“

Another sharp reply is prevented by the director stepping up to them with a ready smile, and Jun puts on his own pleasant expression no matter how stiff it is. He is a professional after all.

+++

Aiba isn’t giving up.

He keeps up the small talk through all three set changes, even if Jun is blatantly ignoring him. The silence only seems to encourage him, but at least he sticks to safe topics such as the breeding of pandas, starving children in Africa, and his parents’ Chinese food restaurant.

Jun manages to keep his temper under control. This is a huge feat considering that standing so close to Aiba Masaki is enough to make every well groomed hair on his body bristle.

The man is perfect, despite how impossible that should be. He is overly polite to the staff, going as far as to help out moving a table when needed, and has the ladies laughing within a few seconds of conversation. Not only that, but his photos are perfect, and when Jun is looking over the test shots he finds himself captivated by the natural way that Aiba just _is_.

“A little closer, Aiba-san. Yes, that’s fine.” Jun can feel a warm aura pressing against his back, where the other model is leaning over him as he sits in a chair, and the faintest touch can be felt on his shoulder as Aiba balances himself. As soon as he is given the finished signal, Jun shoots out of the chair and across the room to the water cooler, where Nino is watching him in amusement.

“Not what you were expecting, eh?” the manager asks, obviously referring to Aiba by his tone of voice.

“This is your fault,” he accuses before drinking his water in one gulp and mentally preparing himself to head back for the final check.

+++

“Uh, Matsumoto-san?”

He had just been trying to escape to his dressing room, but there is Aiba, jogging after him. As soon as Jun turns to glare at him, he begins to wring his hands together nervously.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to get drinks or something? For a job well done?”

They had been praised for their synergy, and Jun isn’t sure if it was the usual compliment or simply just because Aiba had been there. It doesn’t matter either way because unlike most of his jobs, this is one he can’t wait to forget about.

Better to bite the whole thing in the bud.

He shifts with intention, facing Aiba full on, and unconsciously clenches his fists before forcing himself to relax. It’s quite hard not to get worked up when faced with an attractive grown man, who looks like rejection might make him cry.

“Let me be upfront with you, Aiba. I have no intention of getting any closer to you.” His voice sounds harsher than he thought it would. “I will _not_ go out with you tonight, and in fact, I’d appreciate it if you just left me the hell alone.”

Aiba indeed looks about ready to cry as he turns his gaze down to the floor and remains silent as Jun spins back around and stalks all the way to the haven of his dressing room.

+++

Jun doesn’t want to see the final compilation series, but it’s too much paperwork to file for only one magazine. So here it is, waiting for him one humid summer day when he gets home.

Despite his intentions of avoiding it, it would be a waste to at least not look through part of it. He will just check out the street fashion section he likes.

As usual he sits down on his couch with a beer in one hand and automatically discovers himself flipping open to the compilation page.

He has to give himself credit. They both look dead sexy.

Luckily enough none of Jun’s anger has made it through the camera lens, and if it has, it is transformed into sultry sexuality instead. Next to him, Aiba is completely different than the happy-go-lucky scene he’s usually sporting, instead dressed in black with a matching dark gaze. As expected, he plays this genre just as well. Despite his naïve attempts to engage Jun in conversation, Aiba is just as professional as himself, but with much more natural talent. Jun is envious of that, but he makes up what he can for that shortcoming in hard work, something that Aiba doesn’t seem to have wrapped his head around.

Although, once you place them next to each other like that, there is no way to tell the difference.

+++

They really look like _that_ together, Jun thinks as he sips his third beer, staring at the page that he hasn’t turned for the last hour.

+++

The magazine has sold out, which is a rarity for a men’s fashion company. Jun knows it isn’t the men buying it, though.

Dread had taken a grip on his chest as soon as he saw the news report, and just as he expected, there is another compilation photo shoot schedule as early as the next week. Despite his schedule being completely booked for a month as of yesterday.

“Nino. You know how I feel about him,” he tries to argue, but Nino’s stance is secure.

“They’re all paying double, J. Unless you shave your head—and eyebrows—and grow two breasts smaller than a C cup, you’re doing it.”

He wonders if growing breasts would be that impossible.

“And if that happens, I guess I’ll just have to find a few make-up artists and pose as you myself.”

Jun sighs and gives up.

+++

When he walks onto the set, Aiba is standing with his manager, the two of them casually waiting to start. This time Aiba doesn’t approach Jun when their eyes meet, and although he is still obviously put out after Jun’s rejection, he appears like he _is_ intent on talking to him today. Aiba is easy to read like that.

After Jun wastes time checking out the camera angles, the sleepy looking director comes over to him and begin explaining the theme, blatantly admitting that he is impressed by the previous shoot and wants one of his own—better of course.

As Jun takes his position on the set, which looks like an intimate living room—not as dark as his usual motif, but classy—Aiba finally approaches him with a worried glance.

“Matsumoto-san,” he starts quietly, but Jun sighs and cuts him off with just that sound alone.

“Aiba, I believe I made my feelings towards you rather clear,” he says, distractedly watching the far door in the back to prevent the temptation of examining Aiba’s expression closer. “But this is a professional job and I of course will not let my personal feelings stand in the way of anything.” Despite his words, his tone is still cold. It is quite obvious when the little bravery that had puffed Aiba up deflates, leaving his shoulders sagging.

+++

The first outfit is somewhat casual, a tight pair of leather pants and a shirt that’s hem barely touches the top of the belt. The two of them are sitting on a couch facing each other, Jun holding a drink lightly in his hands.

Before the director has even started taking photos, he is already prodding, “Aiba! Smile, please. You look like you’re at a funeral.”

Of course the model forces one, but Jun already knows it isn’t anything nearly as dazzling as he could pull off. Somehow knowing that _he_ had caused such a depressing expression makes it worse, too.

There is no choice but to look at Aiba now, and Aiba looks back immediately. So fast, in fact, that Jun has to adjust his gaze to looking into the kitchen instead of Aiba’s eyes. The thirst for acceptance is intense there, and a thought comes to mind without any chance for Jun to push it away. _He’s not asking for much. He just wants to talk. It’s not his fault he’s better than you._

Damn it. But it’s _Jun’s_ fault if things don’t go smoothly and the photo shoot is ruined.

Finally he makes himself meet Aiba’s gaze. After an intense moment, Aiba looks away again, down at his hands, his fake smile stretching his face in an awkward way that makes a surge of pain jolt through Jun’s chest. He is trying to give off an accepting atmosphere, but as Nino has told him too many times, Jun is rather terrible at expressing his real emotions. For the camera, he can do anything, but when he actually wants to apologize without really apologizing, he just tends to scare people instead.

Jun curses himself. Not only for his rash words that are hurting the other man so obviously, but for not being professional about this like he had sworn he would be.

“Aiba,” he says gently, nudging the other man’s knee with his own. He hears the clicking of the camera as Aiba looks up at him with questioning and far too innocent eyes.

“I’m sorry.” It’s really the only thing he can do, since his original plan has backfired. Aiba averts his eyes again, his long lashes brushing against his skin in a way that Jun notices without meaning to. He takes a moment to wonder if Aiba is even wearing makeup.

“No, it’s…” comes the pathetic mumbling in reply, and Jun nudges him again, giving the camera something good at the same time he attempts to fix the situation.

This is only going one way, but if Jun doesn’t follow that path there is no salvaging any of it.

Jun smiles, his own imitation of the sun, and finally Aiba smiles back.

+++

On the short coffee break that accompanies his costume change, Jun finds Nino.

“So?” Jun demands, immediately taking a deep swig from his cup—sometimes he feels like coffee is the only reason he has managed all of the photo shoots he had.

“So?” Nino teases with a smirk, looking up from his videogame, which means that he knows exactly what Jun wants to know but isn’t going to give it without a fight. But Jun is prepared, and gently sits the second paper cup on the table. He holds onto it tightly, showing he isn’t going to give it up so easily either.

Nino continues to smirk and reaches for the cup, which Jun interprets as a sign of truce. He gets the info a moment later.

“Here’s the short version: Aiba’s manager, Sho-chan? He’s sleeping with the director.”

Jun almost spits his coffee right back out at the blunt explanation.

“I heard from Risa-chan that he requested the two of you together and Sho managed to arrange it as quickly as he did. But I’m pretty sure after watching _that_ ,” he motions back to the studio, which is actually several rooms over, “it’s the other way around. Bet Aiba wanted to talk to you again, so he asked Sho-chan to call in a favor.”

It takes Jun a second to wrap his head around that.

“Because he wanted to talk to me again?” he repeats with a sigh, feeling his chest tighten when he thinks of Aiba’s earlier smile.

“Jun.” Nino’s expression is deadpan, as if he’s finally gotten fed up with dealing with the situation. “Give him a chance already. You already know that you’re going to give in, so it’s better just to get it over with.”

Several feelings overcome Jun at those words, the most prominent being relief that he doesn’t have to keep fighting for his pride. It’s accompanied by the overwhelming fact that Nino knows him better than he knows himself anymore, and that if he gives Aiba a chance, he is really quite certain he won’t make it back out again.

+++

His next outfit is a suit that has been well pressed, and when Jun walks back into the room, Aiba is ready and talking intimately with his manager again, while the director is kneeling down and examining something in the doorknob with a flashlight.

Not knowing what else to do, Jun comes closer and watches the director, trying to hide his attempt to overhear the conversation taking place a few feet over. It seems to either be a pep talk, or a scolding.

“What’re you doing?” he asks unconsciously. Even though the other man answers, he doesn’t shift his attention from the door.

“Just wondering what kind of lock this is. Usually they don’t actually have working props, but I noticed that today they did.”

“Fascinating.” Jun hopes he doesn’t sound as bored as he thinks he does. “Ohno-san?”

“Yes?”

“I heard you arranged everything today?”

“I did. Don’t mess it up.” This time he pointedly shoots a warning glance at Jun before turning back to the door, messing with it for a full five seconds before adding, “Aiba’s touchy you know. His emotions are raw, which isn’t always a good thing for us, but when they come through they’re nice and clear.”

Jun already knows that.

+++

Right before they start, Jun is handed a briefcase as he stands in the doorway of the set. He hadn’t really thought about the fact that Aiba is in a pair of cargo shorts and a large t-shirt without any shoes until he is standing next to him, shyly reaching out his hands for the suitcase as the camera clicks away.

At the scene a blush unwillingly creeps into Jun’s cheeks, and he leans down to take off his shiny dress shoes, just like Ohno has directed him to, as Aiba carries his briefcase into the living room to place it by the couch. The scene is paused there, a few shots taken over Aiba’s shoulder of Jun looking at him, and then in a similar position, Ohno crawling under Jun’s arms and causing Aiba to smile quite warmly.

There is no dialogue between them this time, but Jun can feel the intimate moment, can feel Aiba’s mood changing along with his own.

He doesn’t even have to force himself to smile this time.

+++

The rest of the scene has been left up to them. Before he knows it, Jun is loosening his tie and plopping onto the couch, playing out the tired businessman he is supposed to be. Aiba slowly sits down next to him, leaving space between them, and watches Jun’s hands as they work at his buttons in succession. Jun’s eyes are actually closing as he rests his head backwards, and he feels Aiba come closer.

Naturally he allows himself to shift and his head lolls to the side. A shoulder is there to catch him, and Ohno’s soft voice permeates the air, asking them to stay _right there_.

+++

Even though Jun feels like all of his energy has been sucked out of him by the time they are finished, there is one more thing that needs to be done.

“Aiba-kun?” he calls. The other man promptly leaves after the wrap-up, and Jun imagines it is because Aiba wants to cause him as little discomfort as possible.

At the call, Aiba turns around tentatively, as if he doesn’t want to hope for too much.

Jun tries to smile comfortingly, but he knows for certain it comes out nervous instead.

“If that drinks offer is still open…”

The smile is there as Aiba replies, “Of course!”

+++

When they are done at the bar, both rather drunk, Jun doesn’t think twice about taking Aiba home with him.

It might simply be that every ounce of Aiba seems to beg for Jun to take care of him, or that his place is closer, or that they are hitting it off so well that Jun can’t imagine being seriously angry with Aiba ever again. Or that the more they drink, the closer Aiba comes. Or the trail of kisses he leaves on Jun’s collar as he rests against him in a stupor.

It might be any of those things, but if Jun would allow himself to really think about it, he would have known the answer without much trouble.

+++

Aiba’s taut skin under his fingers, the way his muscles move in response to his touches. Aiba’s throaty voice as he pleads for more, pulling Jun against him in desperation. Aiba’s skilled tongue working at his cock, his lips surrounding him and drawing out numbing pleasure that plays across his nerves. Aiba inside of him, kissing him, taking all of him and giving himself in return.

Those are the only things Jun remembers in the morning.

+++

Aiba is just as sexy with misshapen hair and hangover breath as he ever has been.

“’Morning, Matsumoto-san,” he says sleepily, then giggles in his airy giggly way. Jun pretends to be disgruntled with waking up before he absolutely has to, but the sight of Aiba is worth it. He is still naked, lying on his side next to him, his eyes full of nothing but affection.

“Stupid. After _that_ , I guess you can call me Jun. Or whatever that horrendous nickname was.”

Aiba smiles in amusement, but his expression sobers momentarily. “I hope you don’t think I was… taking advantage of you or anything. I promise that was not my intention for asking you out—“

“I did the asking out, didn’t I?” Jun fights back a throb of irritation that comes with his own hangover, and for even giving Aiba the impression that he might be mad about what is happening between them.

“You did, but…”

Jun shuts him up by crushing their mouths together.

+++

The second time there is no alcohol involved. After a nice dinner at Jun’s favorite Italian restaurant, he takes Aiba back to his place again and they kiss on his couch while the TV hums in the background.

By the time heavier foreplay starts, they make it to Jun’s bed. Aiba pushes him down as he continues removing Jun’s clothes, taking time between kisses to examine the skin that’s being revealed.

“You know,” Aiba smiles as his fingers tickle across Jun’s chest, making him squirm underneath him. “Out of all of your moles, I was the most excited to meet this one.” He indicates what he is talking about by lowering his mouth to a small mark near Jun’s left nipple, sucking on it teasingly. Jun bucks his hips, thinking that it is entirely not fair that Aiba already knows exactly how to make him crazy.

“What’re you talking about?” he asks distractedly, wondering if he will ever get used to Aiba’s random conversation topics.

“Your moles. You have so many of them,” Aiba replies as if it is the most normal comment in the world.

Jun’s breath catches as Aiba uses his teeth and feels his back arch as one of Aiba’s beautiful hands starts pulling his briefs down.

“I’m pretty sure,” Aiba pauses for a kiss, “that this one is going to be my favorite. Or the one on your ass right next to—“

“Shit, we’ve only done this once—how do you know that?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Aiba looks up at him with his big eyes again, taking Jun by surprise as he licks his nipple directly this time. “I’m a huge fan of yours, Jun. I have all of your magazines, even the ones before your debut.”

“Shit,” Jun gasps again, body pulsing with a twisted sense of pride as well as physical satisfaction.

“Everything, even the _erotic_ ones—“ Aiba pointedly adds, no doubt referring to the five or six partial nude shoots he’d done for a ladies’ magazine.

“That’s creepy.” Although he says his thoughts, that’s more of his conscience’s opinion. In all reality, this situation should be turning him off—and it no doubt would have for anyone but Aiba.

“Even the first edition of the one they recalled because your ass was reflected in the dresser behind you—“

“Stop talking about it!” Jun’s voice nearly comes out too high-pitched since Aiba wraps his fingers around his cock in the same instance. All of his nerves are on edge, and even though he has a feeling it isn’t going to end quickly from here, Jun is pretty sure he can live with that.

After all, he still needs time to explore Aiba’s body too. He needs to make up for the late start.

+++

One might think otherwise, but Jun finds it more difficult to work with Aiba after they are seeing each other.

Because as soon as the other man gets within three feet of him, Jun’s body reacts accordingly. His thoughts won’t focus on anything but Aiba’s full mouth and eye wrinkles. His ears won’t listen to any advice being given, saving all their work for Aiba’s erotic breaths that drift right next to his cheek. And most of all, his cock makes its own decisions and almost always snaps to attention. Despite all of his years of hard work getting to where he is, Jun is at Aiba’s mercy.

Unfortunately, this seems to please both Aiba (who almost always attacks him in his dressing room afterwards) and the film directors. And Nino, too, ever since he raised their rates for compilations.

Despite Jun’s doubts, they must be good together. The requests just keep coming, to a point where Jun sees Aiba most days in addition to every night.

At one point, even his ex-favorite magazine (after sending a formal apology three days after the changed publication), offers the two of them a centerfold, the same that Aiba had (unbeknownst, Jun finds out) stolen from him. It is a prestigious enough company that Jun can’t really say no, and in the end he decides that it’s better that way.

He’d much rather share the centerfold with Aiba than fight him for it.

+++  
Epilogue

“Sho-chan,” Ohno whines as soon as he hears the front door close and sees the manager. He stands up from where he had been waiting on the couch, and meets him near the entryway where Sho is bent over to take off his shoes.

“What is it, Satoshi?” More than anything Sho looks amused at the pouty look on his lover’s face.

“Did you see this?” he asks in the same watery voice, marching back over to the couch and picking up the magazine he’d been looking through that evening. He shoves it in Sho’s face just as he steps onto the carpet, changing it out for his suitcase, which he promptly places by the couch for him.

“The photo shoot Jun and Aiba did for _Fashioned_ last month…?” he prompts, glancing through the pages to see if anything had been changed from the proofs he had been sent to look over. It doesn’t seem like it.

Ohno takes the magazine from his hands before pushing him onto the couch and crawling into his lap.

“Why didn’t _I_ get pictures like that?”

As soon as he realizes what Ohno is upset about, Sho can’t help but smile.

“Because you took them _before_ they were fucking,” he explains in a slightly lower voice, reaching up to push his fingers into his lover’s hair.

“No fair,” Ohno sighs before his expression completely relaxes under the touch. He leans down for a deep kiss.

Sho can’t really disagree with him. Their timing had been bad, but at the same time, without that shoot with Satoshi, Sho isn’t sure they would have become friends at all.

Of course _now_ , the second the two of them are together they start oozing hormones, and each of their shoots becomes a fight to resist pulling each other’s clothes off. That part is a good seller, and it will last a while until the fans become sick of it. When that finally happens, then the pair will be comfortable enough with each other that it will turn straight to fluffy love. Sho can already see it all playing out right before his calculating manager eyes.

“You’ll just have to get them next time. Instead of tattered shirts, make them get naked in a bed for you,” Sho suggests with a chuckle, and Satoshi returns the expression, moving slightly under his hands.

“If I did that, they wouldn’t be _modeling_ anything.” Satoshi’s quick intake of breath is obvious when Sho kisses his neck. He gives his answer from there too, tickling the skin with his breath.

“Make it a jewelry cover.”

Satoshi giggles again, and decides to take his suggestion to heart. Otherwise the conversation is over, and he hangs on as Sho turns him over and plants him into the couch cushions, completely ready for their round of welcome-home-sex.


End file.
